I remember back in middle school, my small group of close friends decided to match our personalities to the type of cars we’d someday drive. Silly I know, but fun. So my friend Dani, a laid-back, earthy, horse-riding, free-spirit would drive a Jeep. It screamed freedom. On the other hand, my friend Kate, hands-down, would drive a pink Cadillac convertible with fuzzy dice dangling from the rearview mirror. I don’t think I need to go into her personality type too much to explain why.
For me?

They agreed that a black corvette with black tinted windows was the most fitting. I can guess it may have been because I was quiet. I’ll leave it at that for now.

I’ve always been somewhat….different?

My mother was a perseverant woman who worked 40+ hours a week while putting herself through a Master’s program. She spared little time for taking anyone’s crap. I suppose that’s where my admiration for tough role models originated.

So it stands to reason that all of my female characters in the stories that I’ve written are the mysterious, dark and dangerous women that could kick your ass before you even realize it’s been kicked. They typically have a past and if you dig deep enough, MAYBE a soft side. MAYBE. But you won’t find it on their sleeves; all that lies beneath the fabric are the scars left behind from their self-destructive behaviors. This is the female that has always drawn me in; the spunky little pistol who refuses to back down from a fight.

And this is where I was headed in my latest WIP. I started out wanting her to be some hard ass, take-no-prisoners MC with a past. After all, the hero is. He’s a violent demon who would rather be alone than deal with the constant needs of a woman.

But alas, sometimes the muses carry us down a different path than what we originally intended. Much as I pushed Allie into the role of a perilous adrenaline junky with a chip on her shoulder, she pushed back. And as if she wasn’t enough of a struggle, Colton stepped in on her behalf, backing me up into a corner.

“Whoa! Whoa!” I said, holding my hands up in the air. “What the hell is going on here? Am I writing this book? Or are you guys writing it for me?”

Well, apparently a writer has no say in how the story is composed. We are simply a channel through which our characters manipulate words onto the page. So I caved and went along with what mine demanded. It turns out that Allie is still a little pistol. And she can still kick some ass. But she’s also clumsy, funny and a bit too trusting.

In other words, NOTHING even close to what I envisioned; which is great, because as the story evolves and the series unfurls, this personality type makes more sense. Too much of a badass would have gotten herself killed a long time ago. Allie’s wit is sharp as a knife. And her personality is her fiercest weapon. So I’m gonna keep her the way she is.